"Poor George Dyer--whom Lamb has celebrated--formed one subject of conversation this evening. He invited some one--I think it was Llanos, the author of 'Esteban' and 'Sandoval'--to breakfast with him one day in Clifford's Inn. Dyer, of course, forgot all about the matter very speedily after giving the invitation; and when Llanos went at the appointed hour, he found nothing but little Dyer, and his books, and his dust--the work of years--at home. George, however, was anything but inhospitable, as far as his means or ideas went; and on being told that Llanos had come to breakfast, proceeded to investigate his cupboard. He found the remnant of a threepenny loaf, two cups and saucers, a little glazed teapot, and a spoonful of milk. They sat down, and (Dyer putting the hot water into the teapot) commenced breakfast. Llanos attacked the stale crust, which Lazarillo de Tomes himself would have despised, and waited with much good-humour and patience for his tea. At last, out it came. Dyer, who was half blind, kept pouring out--nothing but hot water from the teapot, until Llanos, who thought a man might be guilty of too much abstinence, inquired if Dyer had not forgot _the tea_. 'God bless me!' replied Dyer, 'and so I have.' He began immediately to remedy his error, and emptied the contents of a piece of brown paper into the teapot, deluged it with water, and sat down with a look of complete satisfaction. 'How very odd it was that I should make such a mistake!' said Dyer. However, he now determined to make amends, and filled Llanos' cup again. Llanos thought the tea had a strange colour, but not having dread of aqua tofana before his eyes, he thrust his spoon in and tasted. It was _ginger_! Seeing that it was in vain to expect commonplaces from the little absentee, Llanos continued cutting and crumbling a little bread into his plate for a short time, and then departed. He went straight to a coffee-house in the neighbourhood, and was just finishing a capital breakfast when Dyer came in, to read the paper, or to inquire after some one who frequented the coffee-house. He recognized Llanos, and asked him how he did; but felt no surprise at seeing him devouring a second breakfast. He had totally forgotten all the occurrences of the morning." Hazlitt, like Dr. Johnson, was a prodigious tea-drinker, and his peculiar habits and manners were minutely photographed by his friends. His failings were, no doubt, greatly exaggerated, but we believe ourselves on safe ground in quoting Patmore's account of his friend's devotion to the teapot:--